Creator or father?
by Galadh
Summary: The Fellowship are in Lorien and Boromir and Legolas are fighting. Aragorn learns some important issues about life.


"Rivendell," Frodo sighed. "Why did we ever leave?"  
  
"I just washed it!!!" Legolas yelled! "And you did that!!!"  
  
"I only tried to brush it," Boromir said.  
  
"I don't want human muck on my perfect hair!" Legolas screamed. "Where as Aragorn - now Boromir's created that huge tangle, could you brush it for me?"  
  
"Aragorn's human," Boromir said.  
  
"Am I?" Aragorn looked himself up and down.  
  
"I've always thought you were," Boromir said. "But now I think of it.."  
  
"He's better than that," Legolas said, sighing dreamily. Gimli kicked him.  
  
"Forget it, matey, I'm after Arwen," Aragorn pulled out the Evenstar and shoved it in his face. "Why else do you think I'm coming on this trip?"  
  
"I thought there was something deep and meaningful between us," Legolas said. "I thought you loved me." They looked at each other, hard.  
  
"Nah!" Aragorn exclaimed. "What made you think that?"  
  
"Well, there was that night you got in my bed, in Moria," Legolas muttered. Both of them were bright red. Everyone (else) laughed.  
  
"IT WAS DARK, OK?" Aragorn shouted.  
  
"And you didn't mind me putting my arm round you in Moira, when the watcher in the water broke the doors." Legolas said.  
  
"I thought you were just steadying yourself," Aragorn muttered.  
  
"I'M AN ELF!!!" Legolas yelled. "ELVES DO NOT TRIP!!!"  
  
"That's strange," Aragorn muttered. "I'm sure lord Elrond stumbled over his dress; I mean robes, when I was a child."  
  
"I said elves, not measly little fakes," Legolas said. "Half elves and such like."  
  
"Excuse me, this is Arwen's father we're talking about here," Aragorn said. "And anyway, he's 9/14ths elf." He went up and slapped the elf prince on the cheek. There was a hushed silence as the elf put a hand on his cheek. It was bright red. Legolas started to cry and ran off.  
  
"Did you mean it?" Legolas said. "You're really going for Arwen, rather than my charming good looks?"  
  
"I'm sorry, Legolas," Aragorn said. "But I'm not gay, like you are."  
  
"Is it a crime?" Legolas sniffed.  
  
"Not in this day and age," Aragorn said. "But in the time Tolkien wrote it, it might have been."  
  
"Oh," Legolas said. "Who's Tolkien?"  
  
"The inventor of us, I think," Aragorn said. "I heard one of the Valar talking about him."  
  
"Oh, so he's our father," Legolas said.  
  
"No," Aragorn said. "My father was Arathorn, not Tolkien."  
  
"I meant metaphorically," Legolas said hastily. "Like my father is Thranduil, but my creator is Tolkien." Aragorn started to throw a tantrum about Arathorn being his father, rather than Tolkien.  
  
"What's all this fuss, Estel?" Galadriel came out of her living quarters  
  
"Galadriel - who is my father?" Aragorn flung his arms out dramatically, knocking out Merry and Pippin.  
  
"Arathorn," Galadriel said. "But Tolkien is your creator."  
  
"Who is my father?" Aragorn yelled.  
  
"Arathorn!" the fellowship cried.  
  
"And who's my creator!" Aragorn yelled.  
  
"John Ronald Reul Tolkien!!!" The fellowship yelled.  
  
"Grrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr!" Aragorn snarled. "Am I the only one who didn't know about him?!"  
  
"Yes!" the fellowship all cried.  
  
"No," a small boy at his elbow said.  
  
"Shut up, you don't count," Aragorn hit it in the face and knocked it out.  
  
"Estel," Galadriel hurriedly picked the boy up. "Be careful with him - that's my great-grandson."  
  
"So?" Aragorn asked.  
  
"He's your son," Galadriel said.  
  
"Arwen's had a kid?" Aragorn asked.  
  
"Good lord, no," Galadriel laughed. "What ever made you think that?"  
  
"That boy," Aragorn muttered. "You said he was my son and your great- grandson."  
  
"Kid? What kid? I don't see any kid!" Galadriel said.  
  
"There is no kid," Spoon-Boy said, and sure enough, the kid had disappeared.  
  
"Um, you're in the wrong movie," I (the author) said. "Smithy is in Rivendell. I'll take you there."  
  
"Thanks," Spoon-Boy said.  
  
"No problem," I said. "Do you want a drink before we go?"  
  
"All right," Spoon-Boy said.  
  
"Poison?"  
  
"No thanks," Spoon-Boy said.  
  
"All right, let's go," I said. I made sure we were out of sight, pulled out a knife, slit Spoon-Boy's neck, discarded the body, and disappeared. 


End file.
